


Sugary Sweet

by KittyBandit



Series: DGM Fanworks Initiative 2k17 [3]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Romance, dgmfanworks2k17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 04:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11200728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyBandit/pseuds/KittyBandit
Summary: Baking has always been a stress-relieving activity for Howard Link. However, when the source of his stress refuses to leave the kitchen, he finds himself stuck between a rock and hard place.





	Sugary Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3: Domestic; Home; Comfort
> 
> A little pieshipping with literal pie. You're welcome. XD

The smell of sweets filled the kitchen, sugary concoctions of all shapes and sizes stacked up high on each counter. Link focused on a bowl of what would eventually become blueberry muffins. He stirred the batter over and over again, his attention solely on the task at hand. He’d been at it all day. Cakes, pies, cookies, candy, muffins, biscuits, tarts—no baked good was missed.

He couldn’t stop baking. It was his outlet, his way of relieving stress. Normally, after baking a pie or a cake, he’d feel better, his emotions leveled, and he could continue with his day like normal. But today, no matter how many cookies or candies he made, he couldn’t shake the ache in his chest.

Just as he set the bowl down and pulled out a muffin tray, Lenalee walked into the kitchen. He paid her no mind and continued with his work.

“Link, did you make all of this?!” she asked, her voice full of amazement as she walked over to the towering stack of baked goods. She eyed a triple decker German chocolate cake with candied cherries and drizzled frosting. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” he answered, scraping the batter from the sides of the bowl and carefully pouring it into each muffin cup with care.

“Then why bake so much?” she asked, turning her attention to a box of raspberry thumbprint shortbread cookies.

Link shrugged, not wanting to go into details. He didn’t like other people poking into his business, and he wasn’t about to divulge his troubles to anyone else, especially not an Exorcist. A white lie would have to suffice. “I simply felt like it.” Once the batter had been poured, he looked over to the counter. He _had_ amassed quite an impressive display of sweets. His lips quirked downward into the smallest of frowns. This did look suspicious. He had to get rid of the evidence. “…You’re welcome to take some, if you’d like.”

“Really?” Her purple eyes lit up as she looked back at him. “You don’t mind?”

“Please. I’m making more than enough. Take anything you want.”

“Thank you!” She picked up the cake she’d had her eyes on earlier, balancing the plate with both hands. “I’ll bring this to the Science Department. I’m sure they’d love a treat.”

Link nodded and grabbed the muffin tin as she left, sliding it into the oven. Once the dishes were washed, he picked up his recipe book and started in again. Just one more, and he was sure that the feeling in his chest would abate. Just one more.

 

xXxXxXx

 

Link may have miscalculated.

Once word got out that he’d basically filled the entire kitchen with confections, there was a non-stop parade of people wandering in and sampling his fine treats. Miranda and Marie had absconded with a batch of snickerdoodles. Krory made off with a few slices of raspberry cream pie. Komui slipped away with a pile of strawberry tarts. Timothy managed to run off with some chocolate chip cookies shoved in his mouth and a pan of apple crumble in his hands. That wasn’t even mentioning all of the Finders, Scientists, and other random workers that stopped by for a treat. At this point, he wasn’t sure how he still had anything left.

The worst part was that his anxiety hadn’t abated. If anything, his current company in the kitchen made it all the worse. He’d come here to escape the object of his thoughts, not be trapped with him.

“Damn, Link. I don’t even like sweets and these pumpkin bars are the best thing I’ve ever eaten!” Lavi shoved the bar into his mouth before cutting another out of the pan. He elbowed Walker as he spoke with his mouth full. “Al, you’ve gotta try these!”

Link watched the two from the corner of his eye. He was still baking, more furiously than ever, and was rolling out dough for cinnamon rolls. The wooden pin felt heavy in his hands, but even as he tried to pay attention to what he was doing, he couldn’t stop focusing on him.

Walker grabbed the bar out of Lavi’s hand and popped it into his mouth. He hummed with appreciation. “Oh, my God. _Amazing_.”

Link flushed and focused his attention back on the cinnamon rolls.

“Hey, that was mine!”

“You’re too slow, Lavi.”

“Warn me next time. You almost took my hand off,” Lavi grumbled going back to the bars. Walker laughed and moved to the other side of the kitchen, looking for more treats spread out on the counters. Link felt Lavi’s gaze on him for a moment, but kept his eyes down on the dough in front of him. He set the rolling pin to the side and spread out the cinnamon, sugar, and melted butter across the flattened dough.

He heard Walker groan in delight again, and flushed to the tips of his ears. It bothered him that Lavi seemed more focused on him than Walker. Link leveled his gaze to the dough in front of him. Maybe if he ignored him, he would go away…

“Hey, Allen,” Lavi started, still staring at Link. “You might want to keep those noises down. Seems Howie here is quite _affected_ by them.”

Link shot him a look that could’ve frozen boiling water in an instant. “Excuse me?” he said, that stiff irritation echoing in his voice.

Walker snorted, almost choking on the cream puff he’d just inhaled. Tears gathered at his eyes as he turned around to face them. “ _Howie?!_ ” Of course Walker would miss the meat of Lavi’s comment, and focus in on the ridiculous nickname.

“Do not call me that,” Link snapped, his fingers gripping the spoon so hard the metal nearly bent.

“Oooh, someone’s a bit touchy,” Lavi teased, taking a step back. He grinned and snagged a few shortbread cookies as he backed away towards the door. “This kitchen’s getting a little too hot for me. See you later, Al!” He waved as he disappeared and Link made a mental note to get back at him somehow.

Walker leaned against the counter next to Link, still chuckling. After he wiped the tears from his eyes, he smiled. “Don’t mind Lavi. He just likes to rile everyone up from time to time.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Link grumbled, focusing back on the cinnamon rolls again. The melted butter, sugar, and cinnamon were already spread out, and all he had to do was roll and cut the dough before baking.

Walker watched him quietly, still munching on some of the sweets. He was silent for a long moment, and Link felt those silver eyes on him, more obtrusive than Lavi’s gaze had been, but significantly less annoying. Walker smiled comfortingly.

Walker had a very pleasant smile.

“I’m surprised you’re so good at this.”

“At what?”

Walker gestured around at all the goodies scattered in the kitchen. “Baking. I mean, I knew you could do it, but this is… Well, it takes skill, right?”

The praise was not lost on Link, and he shook his head. He didn’t want to think about Allen Walker giving him a compliment. He was already flushed enough as it was. “It’s not difficult if you have a recipe.”

“Still,” Walker began, picking a few caramels off of a glass tray. “It’s something to be proud of at least.” After he popped the sticky candy in his mouth, he groaned again, the same way he had been with every treat he’d grabbed since he’d entered the kitchen. It was worse now that they were alone, and Link had to pretend he didn’t like how smooth it sounded, or that he had been the cause of it—albeit indirectly.

“Why are you making so many, anyway? Are we having a party?”

Link grabbed some string to cut the rolled dough, slicing the delicate cinnamon rolls with ease. “I just… had a lot on my mind. Baking helps me clear my head.”

Walker laughed. “You must have a lot on your mind, then. I feel like I’m in a bakery.”

He couldn’t argue with the comment, so he said nothing in return. As long as Walker didn’t know what had been plaguing his thoughts for weeks now, it would be all all right. “…Take as much as you want.”

Walker blinked at him, a smile tipping up on his lips. “Really? You don’t mind.”

“Everyone else has taken what they wanted. Why can’t you?” It was easy to make that connection, to say that Walker wasn’t getting special treatment. Everyone took some of the treats he’d baked—so it didn’t matter that Link was especially pleased that his sweets were appreciated by Walker. It didn’t matter at all. “Besides, it’s not like I’m going to eat all of it.”

“Thanks.” Walker leaned up against the counter, grabbing a brownie from a pan next to him. He took a bite and sighed happily.

Link tried his best to ignore the sounds, focusing instead on his cinnamon rolls. He set the rolled up and cut dough into a small pan, then slid it into the already warm oven. Grabbing some of the dirtied dishes, he walked to the sink and started washing them. He was running low on steam and would have to stop soon. Besides, it was late, and he should wrap up this little project before he lost sleep over it.

Walker paused, watching as Link cleaned the dishes. “You know… If you ever want to bake again, I wouldn’t mind helping you.”

The comment gave Link pause, but only for a short moment. He cleared his throat and continued scrubbing the pan with soap. “You don’t have to help.”

“But I want to.”

Link swallowed, his throat tightening up. “Why?” It was easier to ask the question when he wasn’t facing Walker.

“Because I want to.”

He heard Walker’s footsteps, felt his presence just behind him. His shoulders stiffened. He still couldn’t turn around to face him. “…If that is what you want, then I wouldn’t say no.”

Walker smiled. “Then it’s a date.”

Link wasn’t sure what was more embarrassing: the undignified squeak he emitted or how he snapped the wooden spatula he had been cleaning in half.


End file.
